


Morosexual

by Hornet394



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Morosexual, Sapiosexual, but like. 2 words, courfenj brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21732244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hornet394/pseuds/Hornet394
Summary: “You have a type, and I’m going to find it for you.” Courfeyrac mutters, almost angrily.Enjolras, the ungrateful shit that he is, only raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Has it dawned on you that I don’t need romance advice from a single person like you?” He answers annoyingly, turning back to his book.Or, Enjolras is sapiosexual, and Courfeyrac hasproof.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 124





	Morosexual

The day Enjolras yells at Grantaire so hard he starts choking is the day Courfeyrac puts his foot down.

“This is not okay.” He grumbles to Combeferre, “Enj can’t take it all out on Grantaire just because he needs to get laid.”

Combeferre spits his drink over the table, incurring a look of disgust from Joly. “I don’t think that’s the reason they argue.” Combeferre begins, but shuts his mouth when Courfeyrac’s attention zeros onto him.

“What do you mean?” Courfeyrac demands, “Are you keeping secrets from me?” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. Combeferre’s expression relaxes reassuringly and he pats Courfeyrac on the shoulder. “Not a secret,” He says, “Just a mystery that I think you’d like to figure out for yourself.”

Mysteries. Courfeyrac can do mysteries. He doesn’t like secrets, because people automatically assume that just because he talks a lot, he can’t keep secrets. That’s bullshit, and Courfeyrac can’t stand the base assumption that he can’t be trusted just because he loves talking, and there’s just about two people on this planet that knows this about him, which he’s eternally grateful for. “Thanks, Ferre.” He says quietly, and the other boy just smiles and turns back to his notes.

When Enjolras finally storms out, face red and flustered, Courfeyrac dashes after him with Enjolras’ laptop, because his best friend’s memory is as good as a potato when it comes to Grantaire. Enjolras is super angry and he walks fast when he’s super angry, but he’s also a midget and there’s only so far his legs carry him, so it doesn’t take much for Courfeyrac to catch up to him.

He stays quiet for a while, lets Enjolras work his anger off until Enjolras stops in his tracks and grabs Courfeyrac into an aggressive hug, mashing his face against Courfeyrac’s shoulder. “There, there,” He says, patting the top of Enjolras’ curls, “Come to Mama Courf.”

Enjolras pinches him in the arm. 

“I’m going to drop your laptop if you do that again.” Courfeyrac threatens with an exaggerated pout, but tucks Enjolras under his arm as they stumble back to their flat. “You don’t have to come with me,” Enjolras sighs, “Go back to Combeferre.”

Courfeyrac waves his hand dismissively. “Combeferre’s holding down the fort back in the Musain, we have about an hour to kill until he returns and forces us to eat green food.”

Fortunately, Courfeyrac is always hungry, so as soon as he deposits Enjolras on the couch he goes to the fridge to find a tub of ice cream. When he comes back with spoons, Enjolras is curled up on the couch, his laptop open in his lap again.

“What’s new?” Courfeyrac asks, sitting cross-legged next to him and digging into his ice-cream. Enjolras opens his mouth and Courfeyrac obediently feeds him a spoonful of ice-cream.

“Corbyn’s a racist, apparently,” Enjolras mutters after the initial brainfreeze, “As if Boris Johnson’s not.” Courfeyrac leans his head on Enjolras’ shoulder and reads the news with him, and between the two of them they polish off the tub in about fifteen minutes. It’s not proper dinner, but neither of them will complain.

“Look at us,” Courfeyrac says mournfully when there’s no more ice-cream to distract him, “We’re two young and strapping men, but we spend our nights reading the news on the couch.”

Enjolras snorts incredulously. “No one’s stopping you,” He says, “Trump just called Trudeau ‘two-faced’.”

Courfeyrac sits right up. “No way,” He breathes out, “Let me read.” Enjolras doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he angles the screen to face Courfeyrac. 

As Courfeyrac’s making his way down the article, a notification pops up on the bottom right corner. 

**FROM: capitalr@gmail.com**

**SUBJECT: sources to prove u were wrong today**

“Wait,” Enjolras says, shifting his laptop back towards himself, “I need to answer this.”

“Enjolrasssss” Courfeyrac whines, making grabby motions at the Trudeau article, “All work and no play makes you a boring man. A funless man.”

Enjolras tenses a little, but he doesn’t look away from his laptop screen as his hands fly over the keyboard. “I am having fun,” He says, “This is fun.”

Courfeyrac lies his head on the couch, watching Enjolras as he stares intently at his laptop screen, chewing on his lower lip lightly as he writes back to Grantaire.

“I can’t believe your definition of fun is arguing with Grantaire,” He says. Enjolras shoots him a quick, incredulous look. “Grantaire is a fun guy to hang out with.”

Courfeyrac sits up, slouching against Enjolras’ shoulder. “Yeah, but you don’t really hang out with him, do you? You guys fight and argue with each other, that’s not hanging out.”

Enjolras winces. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Courfeyrac pokes Enjolras’ cheek, “I am going to get you laid.”

Enjolras’ typing stops. 

“You have a type, and I’m going to find it for you.” Courfeyrac proclaims, almost angrily.

Enjolras, the ungrateful shit that he is, only turns to face Courfeyrac and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Has it dawned on you that I don’t need romance advice from a single person like you?” He answers annoyingly, then turning back to his laptop. 

“Now, now, let’s start from the beginning,” Courfeyrac starts in a singsong voice, ignoring Enjolras’ very pointed mutter of “Do I have to be here for this?”

Enjolras’ first doomed crush was ninth grade with Miss Lamarque. Which, in Enjolras’ defence, so did half the school, including the teachers. Miss Lamarque taught history and Enjolras had practically idol-worshipped her like a little puppy. He’d help her with cleaning the whiteboard and hung onto her every word, doing extra credit for everything and always asking questions. 

“You were the one to buy her flowers.” Enjolras raises an eyebrow, “Not me.”

Courfeyrac blows him a kiss dramatically. “What can I say? I have good taste.”

Enjolras rolls his eyes. “Are we done yet?”

Courfeyrac waggles his finger at him. “No, who was the poor sod you wanted to bang next? Feuilly, wasn’t it?”

“I went on one date with Feuilly. That’s it.” Enjolras grumbles. “Well, you also fucked him,” Courfeyrac presses.

“I sucked him off and he figured out he wasn’t actually gay.” Enjolras deadpans. “Do you realize how demoralizing that was?”

“Were you really that bad?” Courfeyrac teases and gets a pillow thrown at his head. Fair. “Okay okay. What about Cosette’s dad. Didn’t you stutter like an idiot for half an hour when you first met him?”

Enjolras squeaks out loud and his laptop almost slides off his lap. “I didn’t!” He splutters frantically, “Shut up! You! There! Us! You!”

“Yes, yes, we all have crushes on him, except for Cosette and Marius because that’s just weird,” Courfeyrac says dismissively. Then something clicks.

“Oh. _Oh._ I know what you’re into.” Courfeyrac sits up straight, grabbing Enjolras’ face in his hands. “You’re attracted to _smart_ people. You’re _sapiosexual_.”

Enjolras’ face contorts oddly. “No, no, listen to me,” Courfeyrac quickly says, “Miss Lamarque, Feuilly, Mr Fauchelevant, they’re all _smart_ people. You had a melon-sized crush on Miss Lamarque because she knew so much about history and actually listened to you and debated with you. Feuilly knows so much about all these random things, plus all the work he’s done travelling the world. Mr Fauchelevant, well, you were asking him all sorts of questions about building a business from ground zero and transforming that into charity work, weren’t you?”

Enjolras purses his lips but doesn’t say anything to it.

“Now, we just need to find someone who ticks all your boxes,” Courfeyrac purrs deviously, “I’d say Feuilly, but you’ve ruined him for men, so that’s that.”

“Courfeyrac.” Enjolras sets his laptop down behind him on the couch, finally devoting his full attention to Courfeyrac. “I don’t need you to set me up with anyone. I’m happy the way I am.”

Courfeyrac’s face falls. “I just want you to have someone there for you,” He murmurs sincerely, “Someone who will be fun for you.”

“I have you, Courf,” Enjolras smiles. Then he looks away, a light blush rising on his face. “Anyway, I’ve- I’ve taken care of that myself. I’m surprised you haven’t come up to me about him, really. I certainly thought that you would’ve been the first person to congratulate me or something.”

Courfeyrac tilts his head to one side, frowning. Then it clicks again. Does Enjolras mean...

“Of course you have a crush on Ferre!” Courfeyrac gasps, “You guys would look super cute together!”

Surprisingly, his heart sinks. Of course Enjolras would have a crush on Ferre, because who wouldn’t? “Combeferre’s really the best match for you,” He makes himself say, because of course Enjolras would deserve someone like Ferre.

“Courfeyrac.” There’s an odd look on Enjolras’ face, the one that says he’s bitten into a sour lemon and is trying not to wince.

“No, no, no, he really is,” Courfeyrac says abruptly, “I won’t hear a no from you, Enjolras. Combeferre knows you like the back of his hand, you’re practically _married_ , he’s perfect for you. Back in high school the two of you got the best marks, and he’s acing all his classes now despite doing _medicine_ , who even manages to get good grades in medicine?

“Plus he knows so much about moths, _god_ , he’d talk for hours if you let him, and it’s always so fascinating listening to him speak, his smile just gets wider and wider, he’s such a huge _nerd_ it’s so cute, you guys will be cute together!”

Enjolras opens his mouth and closes it, so Courfeyrac powers through. “Plus he reads a lot on philosophy and political theory, I mean, you’d know better than me, you’re the one he goes to with his thoughts.” He realizes that his smile has slipped a little, so he forces the ends of his mouth back up.

“Combeferre can recite pi until the 50th digit-” Courfeyrac stops in his tracks.

“Grantaire can go up to 60.” Enjolras mumbles petulantly, but Courfeyrac doesn’t have the brainpower to process what his best friend is saying, very thank you much. “Oh shit.” He whimpers, “I’m sapiosexual.”

“Um.” Combeferre’s standing in the doorway, scarf still wound around his neck. “Who’s sapiosexual?”

“Courf is. If you’ll excuse me, I have a call to take.” Enjolras proclaims unhelpfully, then slinks off into his room. His door closes with a resounding thud, leaving Courfeyrac alone in the room with Combeferre.

“Oh.” Combeferre says blankly, letting his bag slide onto the ground, “You’re... attracted to a sapio, I mean, someone?” Courfeyrac opens his mouth and a weird croak leaves his throat.

“I see.” Combeferre smiles faintly, picking his bag up and moving to go to his room, before remembering that he still has his shoes on and bends down to unlace them. The bag falls on the floor again. 

“It’s you.” Courfeyrac blurts out, standing up from the couch. “I’m attracted to you.”

Combeferre stands up as well, a helpless look on his face. “That’s... that’s good,” He says breathily, and takes a step forward before promptly tripping on his shoelaces.

“Oh my god!” Courfeyrac squeaks and he tries to leap over the sofa to get to Combeferre. His knee catches on the back of the couch and he falls onto the carpet on the floor, face first.

“Oh my god.” He hears Combeferre say, then he’s being turned onto his back, and he looks up into Combeferre’s intent gaze. 

“Nothing’s broken or bleeding,” Combeferre murmurs, hands gentle on Courfeyrac’s face as he tilts Courfeyrac’s head slightly, long fingers trailing across Courfeyrac’s features. The touch is too intimate and heat curls at the bottom of Courfeyrac’s stomach. 

Was Combeferre’s face always this close?

Their first kiss is featherlight, and Courfeyrac is glassy eyed when Combeferre pulls away. “I’m glad you’re attracted to me,” Combeferre says, “Because I’m attracted to you too.”

“That’s good.” Courfeyrac repeats dumbly. “That’s very good.” Combeferre’s answering smile makes him smile involuntarily as well.

“Oh god I have to thank Enjolras!” Courfeyrac jumps up to his feet, dashing towards the blonde’s room. “Wait,” There’s a faint hint of panic in Combeferre’s voice as he trails behind Courfeyrac, “I think he’s on a call to Grantaire.”

Courfeyrac skids to a stop in front of Enjolras’ door, frowning as he turns to Combeferre. “No, he’s jerking off.” He says, the walls of their apartment entirely too thin. Combeferre puts both hands on Courfeyrac’s shoulder and steers him back towards the living room couch, and Courfeyrac relaxes immediately, snuggling into Combeferre’s hold. Combeferre grabs Enjolras’ abandoned laptop while Courfeyrac prepares to take a nap.

Then his eyes fly open again. “He’s jerking off while calling Grantaire.” He gasps out loud, “Are they fucking?”

Combeferre’s smile is half-fond, half exasperated. As Courfeyrac begins to argue indignantly about not being told about USS Enjoltaire, he pulls up his own email account.

**TO: enjolras@gmail.com**

**Subject: I think I’m morosexual**

**Author's Note:**

> pls courf's not a moron he's probably more intelligent than every single one of us combined  
> anyway a lil something while i procrastinate on writing my les mis long fics 
> 
> also! unbetaed bcus it's hard to find someone to beta when you're trapped in kpop twitter :( is there a les mis fic community somewhere out there i am desperate
> 
> hmu on twitter! @hornet394  
> and tumblr with the same handle!! but i don't really know how to use tumblr so yeah lmao


End file.
